-Falling Through Shadow-
by WingedIceWolf
Summary: Never had Legolas experienced pain. But when Aragorn is believed to be dead and everyone tries to convince the Prince, despite him still holding onto hope, he too starts to give in to the belief that Aragorn truly was felled. This pain is far worse than any wound he could ever obtain. His soul, his world, his everything shattered. What hope now is there left for men?
1. Chapter 1 -Leave The Dead-

This was originally supposed to be a long shot, but it became too long of a One-Shot. I figured I'd turn it into chapters so that that way, more people would be compelled to read it instead of it being a twenty five page One-Shot. I thank the lovely author who aided me with this, but for now, she will stay anonymous.

Please read, review, enjoy, and favorite! Thank you all my lovelies!  
P.S, the Elvish may not be one hundred percent accurate, as I used a Tengwa'r Translator, but I tried my best. I will post more than one chapter a day and most likely all the chapters today if I can finish my schoolwork in the meantime. Thank you all in advance!

 _-WingedIceWolf_

 _ **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS**_

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When the Wargs had finally cleared out, Legolas wiped splattered crimson from his mouth, remnant of his last kill. Thankfully, the blood upon his mouth was not his own, but elves hardly ever received injuries. The residents of Rohan had hurriedly rushed to Helm's Deep, guided by Èowyn. Many uttered silent thanks, some still trembling from the attacks, hearts thundering, eyes wide. They were lucky to have made it out alive, but some were not so, and Legolas prayed his companion had made it out alive.

To his dismay, as he turned, he could not catch sight of his companion. He had even searched underneath the Wargs, at least what he could see of them, but found nothing, save the dead bodies of orcs beneath the large creatures. The Wargs' mouths were opened in silent snarls and screams, carmine gushing between fangs and out of wounds upon their bodies. The smell of the freshly slaughtered Orcs and Wargs wafted into the air, carried by the breeze.

Gimli too had found that Aragorn was nowhere to be discovered. He rested upon his bloodied axe, breathing a little heavily. Within the bodies of fallen orcs, one of the riders laughed when Legolas called out for his companion. Gimli had done the same while Théoden too searched for the Ranger, whipping his head this way and that.

Silence. No Aragorn.

Legolas tried again, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting louder, passing by the body of the laughing orc. His voice carried across the large plain, yet again, he was met with silence. The orc continued to laugh, making Legolas's blood boil at the sound of it. Rushing over to the orc, he hooked his fingers beneath its shoulder plates and glared coldly.

Gimli stepped up to the fallen Orc, brandishing his axe menacingly, gaze narrowed.

"Tell me what happened, and I shall ease your passing," Gimli spat. The Orc continued to laugh, black blood bubbling between its teeth.

"He's...Dead!" The Orc laughed, sneering wickedly. "He took a little-" the Orc paused to cough but continued. "Little tumble off the cliff!"

"You lie!" Legolas growled, but the Orc was not intimidated by the Elf. The laughs turned into chokes and eventually the Orc fell still, clutching at an object within its hand. The Mirkwood Prince immediately spotted the closed hand, prying the fingers of the dead orc open to find the Evenstar.

Legolas gingerly reclaimed the necklace from the orc's hand, staring at it in disbelief. His eyebrows furrowed together, sapphire blue eyes widening, praying what the Orc had claimed was not true. Both the Elf and the Dwarf hurriedly approached the edge of the cliff, peering over rocks and the sheer edge, at the harsh water below.

Théoden hurried to catch up to them, but the three were met with only rapid waters, nothing more for them to see. Legolas rose his head, his keen eyes scouring the river, searching beyond what any human could see. To his horror, he again found nothing but water for miles.

Gimli's gaze fell upon Legolas, not sure how to react or if he should attempt to comfort the Elf. Legolas only stood still, thoughts running through his head. All this felt too surreal to be true, he had to be dreaming it all.

But the more he dwelled upon the matter, the more the Elf came to accept the truth. His companion was gone. His best friend, one of the last few of the Dúnedain, the Heir to the Throne of Gondor, had truly been defeated. And by Wargs, no less.

 _How could you so easily be defeated by Wargs? It cannot be…_

"Get the wounded on horses." Théoden called out to Gamling. The Captain nodded and began doing as ordered. Rohan's King's gaze returned to Legolas and with sternness in his voice, added, "Leave the dead."

Those words struck Legolas hard, he stared in incredulity at King Théoden, but whatever disbelief he carried quickly turned to vexation. How could Théoden simply believe that Aragorn was dead? There was still a chance he was alive!

 _Was there?_

These past few minutes, though they felt like seconds, had made Legolas spin through a whirl of emotions. Rage, confusion, frustration, disbelief, and so many more he could hardly channel. His entire world came raining down upon him. Could he truly live the remainder of his life without his companion? His brother? The one who had helped sustain his soul? He knew Aragorn would one day pass, as mortals did, but never had Legolas believed it would end like this…

"Come." Théoden spoke, placing a hand to Legolas's shoulder before turning and leaving him standing at the cliff's edge.

Legolas stole one last glance at the roaring waters, and followed Théoden, his head hung low, feeling sorrow overwhelm him. Since there were enough horses for the wounded, he and Gimli mounted one of the horses the Riders of Rohan provided, continuing their journey to Helm's Deep.

The whole ride, Legolas kept his eyes to the road, not wanting to look back. Just the very knowledge of his companion's death made Legolas's heart ache and even more grief wash over him. He tried to listen to the thundering of hooves and the heavy breathing of the galloping horses, hoping it could drown out the constant thought of Aragorn.

Finally, the fortress of Helm's Deep was visible. It was a small fortress, but the walls stretching from it were of a fair size. Helm's Deep was built within a mountainside, the gate at the top of a hill of sorts, being accessible by a stone ramp. The group trotted to the gate, pushing it open with the cries of, "Make way for the King! Make way for Théoden! Make way for the King!"

Èowyn rushed to meet the riders. "So few..." She frowned, her grey-green eyes searching the group, then landing yet again upon Théoden. "So few of you have returned."

Théoden looked down, releasing a deep exhale. "Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives."

He sighed deeply, starting up the stairway. The niece of Théoden allowed her eyes to roam over the men again, seeking a particular black-haired man. She met Legolas' grief-filled eyes and was taken aback. It was almost as if in those eyes, she could see a shattered soul, but he would give no explanation. She turned to face the dwarf that had walked up to her.

"My lady..." He greeted sadly, trying to keep his voice unwavering. He bowed his head in slight acknowledgement of her.

"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" She asked cautiously, fearing the worst. Her blonde hair shadowed her eyes, standing nearly still as she held her breath for the answer.

Gimli's voice quivered as he replied. "He fell..."

Èowyn gasped, her large eyes looking to her uncle for confirmation, glistening with fresh tears. Their two gazes met before the King broke the exchange. Èowyn's eyes fell to the cold ground beneath her feet. Théoden stepped up to the battlements.

"What of the ones who cannot fight, my lord? The women and children?" Gamling asked respectfully.

"Get them into the caves," Théoden replied, walking down the battlements, passing a sewage gate. "Saruman's arm would have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here."

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Muahaha! There's more to come, I promise you. This is only the beginning! Again, thank you for the amazing Author who has helped me with this fanfiction!

 _-WingedIceWolf_


	2. Chapter 2 -Mourning-

Another chapter to this what was a freakishly long one shot. I hope you all enjoy!

I apologize if the elvish is off. I did my best. Please read, favorite, enjoy, and review! And again, many thanks to my amazing collaborator!

 _-WingedIceWolf_

 _ **Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!**_

* * *

Legolas curled up in a dark corner away from all the men and threw his cloak over him to blend in better.

 _He took a little tumble off the cliff._

 _He fell…_

The Prince could still hear the mocking laugh of the Orc in his head. He could not get over the fact that just a few minutes before the battle, his companion was alive and beside him. Now...There was nothing.

"Are you truly dead, mellon nîn?" He asked the wall across him, quietly. "How did the Wargs take you down? How did you let yourself so easily be felled?"

 _No. He did not let himself be felled. He was taken down by those vile creatures of Saruman!_

Legolas's fists clenched tightly, his arms folded, and his knees pulled up to his face. Never had he felt such hatred toward Saruman. Before, he was angered by the Wizard, but now, all he felt was pure, cold rage toward him. A voice in Legolas's head spoke to him.

 _You failed to save him..._

These were Legolas's own subconscious thoughts. His fists clenched tighter, warm tears began to fall down his face, landing in his lap. Rarely had the elf shed tears, but the loss of Aragorn only made Legolas reflect upon the pain he had endured when his mother had met her unfortunate end.

 _I failed him...I failed them all… Aragorn… Sam… Frodo… Merry… Pippin… Boromir… And… Gandalf… Why is life so cruel to those undeserving of death...?_

Legolas leaned his back against the stone walls, the coolness of it somewhat comforting. No one seemed to notice his small form curled within the corner; the shadows concealed him, as did the cloak upon his face, and he embraced the darkness.

He was thankful for the cloak he was given whilst at Lorien. It aided in keeping him concealed from those within Helm's Deep, and the solitude he received thanks to its well-crafted fabrics was also something he was g to have, as it also concealed his pointed ears. That aided in helping him at least blend in with the group better.

The thoughts continued to pound in his head. Over and over...He re-lived every moment of that battle, wishing he and Aragorn were not separated during those events.

 _I could have saved him...But he is gone...It is far too late…I failed…_

The Elf's keen senses caught Gimli passing by, calling out to Legolas. He ignored the Dwarf, burying his head into his knees, sobbing silently. Gimli began to question the men around him, asking if any of them had seen a tall "pointy-eared prissy elf". Some must have thought him either drunk or disoriented, waving him aside or shrugging.

 _Good. No one knows I am here…_

The red-haired dwarf sighed heavily, expecting something like this would occur. Aragorn and Legolas were close friends, that he knew, but Gimli was not near as close to Aragorn as the Elf Prince had been. The pain was something he could not contemplate, and most likely, neither could Legolas.

 _Poor lad…_ Gimli thought to himself as he continued to push through the crowds of people, searching for his companion. He paused, however, and thought to himself. Without Aragorn, the journey ahead would be much more difficult and the chances of reclaiming what had been lost to Sauron would be slim, even with Gandalf's aid. Aragorn was to play a role within their victory, yet Sauron's forces had claimed yet another of the Fellowship.

Legolas could still hear the dwarf asking if anyone had the whereabouts of him, but he paid little to no attention to them. He looked down at the Evenstar he still clutched in his palm, running his fingers across the smooth surface. When Aragorn's face suddenly filled his head, Legolas's grip around the Evenstar tightened until he could feel the sharp sting of the steel digging into his skin. At least the pain was a reminder that he himself was still alive…

Gimli sighed heavily, but as he dwelled upon what Legolas would do to conceal himself, the first thing that came to his mind was how easily Aragorn was able to conceal himself in the shadows. Most likely, that tactic was learned by the elves, probably not the Dúnedain, though they too specialized in concealment.

 _Look in the shadows then, the Elf will most likely be within the shadows as the Ranger had done._

Undoubtedly, Gimli had searched every corner of Helm's Deep and found a figure curled up within the corner, hidden in the shadows, wrapped within his cloak. He tightly clutched a necklace in his palm. It was unmistaken to be Legolas, that Gimli knew. But never had he seen the Elf so downtrodden.

"You alright, lad?" Gimli asked. He coiled back at his own question. Of course the Elf was not alright.

In response, Legolas only shook his head, looking away and muttering tonelessly, "'m fine…"

"It's not your fault he fell," Gimli stated quietly. "There's nothing more you could've done to save him after he fell."

"That's not true," Legolas snapped back, shifting uncomfortably.

"It's not your fault, lad," Gimli said again. The Elf looked up at him, but any compassion or thanks was gone in his face, nothing but a glare and cold eyes. Gimli took that as a sign to leave the Elf be, but he continued to attempt to cheer him up. "He did not die in vain. He saved us. As did you. Be proud of him, laddie. He wouldn't want you to be upset."

"I do not care what he would want for me!" Legolas countered, a growl in his voice. Gimli sighed deeply, sitting down beside him.

"I know it's hard, lad, but you need to carry on without him. I don't expect you to heal so easily, especially since his passing is still fresh in your mind, I imagine. But...Are we certain he is dead?"

Legolas didn't even want to think about the possibility. He wished he could forget it all, start over, as if none of this ever happened. But as every second passed, he felt his soul crack and splinter more and more. His eyes once full of happiness and wisdom were now dark and empty.

"Will you at least search for his body…?" Gimli asked hopefully. Legolas growled.

"There are many guards stationed around here. Théoden will not allow us to leave so easily," he replied bitterly. Gimli could have sworn there was a hint of pain in his voice, but whether it was from physical pain, or mental pain, was undetermined.

"Are you hurt, you stubborn elf?" Gimli asked concernedly.

"I'm fine!" Legolas shouted. His shout made the entire room fall silent and all eyes came to rest upon the unlikely duo. Legolas stood, stumbling to the room Théoden had assigned him earlier and locking the door behind him.

The room was a fair size, having a bed, a mirror, a dresser, a nightstand, a desk, and a small bookshelf. Legolas carefully removed his bow and his quiver, setting them down beside the bed, then unsheathing his daggers, placing those upon the nightstand.

The Elf undid the pin upon his cloak and set his cloak with his other belongings, taking a deep breath. Immediately, pain racked his side, but he had been enduring this pain on his ride to Helm's Deep and while remaining curled within the corner. It was nothing new.

Fresh crimson had stained the Elf's side where he had received a rather jagged gash just above his hip. The wound had stung with the cool breeze that had managed to squeeze through the door when Legolas had slammed them close.

The Elf walked to the mirror, though it was more of a stagger, and turned so he could better see the wound. It was at least a little over a foot long and an inch wide, spewing blood, but the deepness of the wound made up for the wideness. Some of the blood had dried upon his garb, making it stick to his skin and the wound.

Legolas was half tempted to just allow the wound to bleed, killing him in the process. He had no more reason to live. Aragorn was gone…

He sank to the floor, staring at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. His left arm came over the wound, quickly being soaked with warm crimson. All he wanted was Aragorn back. That is all that mattered to him. Not reclaiming Middle Earth. Not returning to his father. Not being praised as a hero.

The more the Elf Prince considered death, the more he got a nagging feeling in his heart. What if Aragorn truly had not died? What if he were still living? What if he was wounded and needed aid, but Legolas had convinced himself he was dead, truly leading to what would be his companion's death.

 _I… have to know. Even if it… kills me… I will find out._

Legolas began to devise a plan. He would have to ride out to find Aragorn at dark. Unfortunately, he couldn't sneak out during day; spotting him would be far too easy in the blinding light of the evening. Besides, Elves could see rather well in the dark, as if it were dim light.

A searing pain re-averted his attention to the wound at his side. Legolas could feel himself growing weaker as every second passed him by. If he wanted to find Aragorn, he needed to stanch the flow of the wound before it could claim his life.

A knock at the door startled Legolas. He jumped, causing a horrible pain to rip through him, but he clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out. He quickly took his cloak, refastened it, and opened the door to find Èowyn standing at the entrance.

"Sorry to bother you, my lord," she stuttered, bowing slightly. "Food will be served soon. Will you not join us?"

"I'm not hungry," Legolas replied bluntly. And that was a lie. His stomach was growling, and he desperately wished for food, but his main focus right now was to tend to the wound at his side. Èowyn glanced up at him in worry.

"You're rather pale...Are you alright?" she stepped forward to place a hand to his head, but Legolas quickly smacked her hand away, stepping back. He tightened his grip on the door to prevent his fall. The young woman stood in shock, but retracted her hand, apologizing under her breath.

"I apologize myself. I will be down later. Thank you," he said gently. However, he hesitated to say the next part. "Can you bring me some bandages?"

"Y-you're hurt?" Èowyn asked alarmingly.

"No, but it would be good to take some on the road," the Elf Prince replied quickly.

"Then...Why are you so pale?" she requested to know, scared that he may truly be hurt.

"I…" he truly didn't know how to reply to that. Elves didn't fall ill, so sickness would not be an excuse. He composed himself before answering, "I have always been pale. It's a trait for Elves."

"Are you sure?" Èowyn asked hesitantly. She had never heard of elves being pale and she did not recall the Elf being so pale in all her times of seeing him. Yet, her attention was mostly focused upon Aragorn and not the Elf… She blushed at the thought.

"Of course, I am sure. I'm an Elf, after all," Legolas replied sharply. Èowyn recoiled, frightened by the Elf's sudden ire. He softened only a little and replied, "Forgive me. I am merely tired. If you would fetch me bandages for the road, that would be much appreciated."

 _He must still be grieving over the loss of Aragorn...That is why he yelled. I wish there was more I could do to comfort him…_ Èowyn had thought to herself sadly, her lips fell to form a frown upon her elegant face. With that, the young woman bowed in respect and left the room, the sound of a door slamming following her down the hall.

Legolas pushed himself off the closed door. He had tried to shut the entrance silently but in his attempt, he only lurched into it, sliding to the floor as unbearable pain rippled through him. He carefully brushed his cloak aside, pressing his hand to the wound yet again, hissing through his teeth at the white-hot agony in his side.

 _Stupid orc._ The Elf cursed the creature that caused him such pain. The thought of Aragorn possibly carrying such a wound flashed through his mind, causing tears to almost immediately fill his eyes, followed by a stifled whimper.

 _This wound is going to slow me down...I need to bandage it and get going as quickly as possible…_

It wasn't long before the same knock he had heard earlier sounded at the door. He had heard her coming, so he quickly had regained himself, but the massive amount of blood pouring from his side had nearly soaked through his cloak. He quickly thanked her, took the bandages, and shut the door.

Once he was certain she had left, he carefully removed his arm guards, his shoulder plates, and lastly his tunic. The wound was easier to access now that his chest was exposed to cold air. Yet again, he found himself glancing into the mirror, grimacing at the wound's appearance.

The blood had soaked his side and continued to gush, being rather deep. The skin around the wound was already purple, fresh bruises surrounding it. Unfortunately, the wound stretched from his side to his stomach.

Thankfully the blade had not been lodged into his stomach. If that were the case, he would need to seek out immediate aid or risk losing his life. Even this wound was life threatening, but that did not matter to him. He did not have anything to stitch the wound, nor did he have the time. The bandages would have to do…

Legolas used the water left within his canteen to wash the blood from his hip and at least wash what he could of the blood that had soaked his thigh. There was not enough water to wash his thigh, but his hip was enough.

He pressed the rag he had found upon the desk to the wound, applying pressure while he took the bandages, beginning to tie them around his torso. He did several layers before he was satisfied and tied the binding off tightly, making sure to keep the bandages securely wrapped, even though his side throbbed with pain.

His clothing was a lost cause, but again, the room had provided him clothing, that would be his only option, even though he didn't prefer blue as his color. He could wash his cloak downstairs and claim the blood was from the Warg attack and not his own. That was if he were caught. Maneuvering through the crowds would be more difficult with his injury…

He gathered his clothing, cloak included, and walked down the stairs with them. A wash basin had been set up earlier for the same purpose he had needed it, so he easily had reached it and dumped his clothes into the basin with a plop. The cold water made it easier to rid of the blood in his clothing while also being rather relaxing, so he scrubbed until most of the blood had come free of his attire, ignoring the blaze flaring in his side.

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And there you are, my lovelies! Thank you all!  
 _-WingedIceWolf_


	3. Chapter 3 -Wounded-

Another chapter. Hehe.

Sorry if the Elvish is off, I'll make sure to put translations at the bottom. Thank you all in advance for reading, favoriting, and reviewing! Enjoy!

 _-WingedIceWolf_

 ** _DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!_**

* * *

Not many people were within the washing area. Most had left to gather for eating, talking within the halls and laughing, so Legolas was on his own. He set his clothing to dry upon a rack beside the fireplace, then stepped into the halls, trying to keep himself upright and steady. Any movement could give away his injury and that's something he wished to keep to himself.

Few turned their heads to see him. Most continued their talking, eating, and laughing, but he did catch conversations discussing him and Aragorn. It made him want to bash the skulls of anyone who spoke of his companion's downfall. He had heard enough of it!

Legolas had easily spotted Èowyn sitting at a table, talking quietly to Gimli and Théoden. The young y stopped speaking once Legolas approached them and sat at the table beside Gimli. Èowyn quickly stood.

"Would you like me to get you a bowl of stew, my lord?" she asked, bowing slightly. Legolas tried to wave her aside, but she turned to fetch him food, as she had said. The Mirkwood Prince sighed heavily.

"How are you, you pointy eared elf?" Gimli asked, elbowing Legolas in the ribs slightly, laughing. The Elf grimaced in pain, stifling a cry. The Dwarf's face immediately became worrisome, scooting away from Legolas.

"I'm fine," Legolas hissed, trying to keep his voice quiet and unwavering, though Gimli could obviously tell Legolas's statement was not the case. He gingerly reached out to touch the Elf Prince's side, but Legolas quickly pulled away.

"You're hurt, aren't you, lad?" Gimli asked quietly, concern evident in his voice. Legolas looked away, grateful that the chatting of the others within the room was hiding their conversation. The dwarf took the Elf's wrist, attempting to force Legolas to look at him. "Look at me you stubborn Elf!"

Legolas only grimaced more at the Dwarf's attempt to pull him back. That was enough conformation for Gimli to know that he was indeed hurt. His skin was cold and his grimaces, though hidden, were there to see.

Théoden turned to look at the two. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Gimli stated. He leaned over and whispered. "Just grieving…Poor lad needs to be left be." Théoden nodded in understanding, not wishing to push the situation further. He had probably only worsened the situation with his earlier demand; "Leave the dead".

Legolas would have smiled slightly if he wasn't in so much pain. Gimli knew what was truly wrong with him, and he was covering for him. The Dwarf turned to look at Legolas who was still slightly grimacing, his face pale, but he still mouthed "Thank you."

Èowyn returned with a bowl of stew, setting it before Legolas. He ate slowly, Gimli watching him like a hawk. He tried to not show any signs of his pain, but once he realized that he could bleed through the bandages, he picked up his eating pace.

The stew was delicious, and he would gladly want more, but he needed to tend to the wound. He could feel the bandages sticking to his skin, his every breath was worsening, and the pain was steadily growing, but he stood, thanked them, and left without another word. Gimli stood himself and followed Legolas.

"Let me tend to you," Gimli demanded as Legolas started back up the stairs, to his temporary room. The Elf sighed heavily. He finally turned to him, leading him into the room. As soon as Gimli stepped into the room, Legolas slammed it shut, walking over to the bed and plopping down upon it.

"Alright, let me see."

"What if I said no?"

"Is that what Aragorn would want, elf? For you to bleed out because you are far too grieved to tend to yourself?"

Legolas went quiet, then replied, his voice cracking. "No…"

"Then please. Let me take care of you, for him," Gimli pleaded. Legolas took a deep breath and nodded slightly, tears streaming down his face. The Dwarf sat upon the edge of the bed and let out a heavy sigh. "How bad is it?"

"I-It's deep," Legolas replied unsteadily.

"Would you be able to ride out?" Gimli asked. Legolas paused, hesitant to reply.

"W-what…?"

"You heard me, lad. Would you be able to ride?" Gimli answered.

"I don't know…" Legolas began. "It hurts…Everything hurts…"

"Of course it hurts. Haven't you ever had a wound before?" Gimli asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't believe this Elf. Sure, he was in a lot of pain, but shouldn't he at least expect pain from a wound? Any wound?

Legolas nodded slightly. "Just scrapes, cuts, and burns…Nothing major…"

Gimli sighed. "I see. Let me see the bloody thing, Elf!"

Legolas groaned in both frustration and pain, unbuttoning the top of the blue long-sleeved shirt he had taken, carefully pulling it over his head. Gimli's eyes quickly found the bloodied bandages at his hip, eyebrows coming together in worry.

"You've lost a lot of blood, lad. Perhaps we should have someone else search for-" Gimli started.

"No!" Legolas shouted, sitting up quickly. That was a terrible mistake, agony shot through his side, causing him to let out a scream into his hands, though it was hardly muffled.

"You'll bleed to death before we find Aragorn," Gimli said gently. "Let me tend to it…At least get you some new bandages. I'll sew it if I have to and keep you pinned to do it!"

Legolas was unhindered by the Dwarf's threat. If Aragorn was alive, Aragorn could tend to him…If he wasn't, the wound could kill him for all he cared. Gimli stood up, though he was obviously smaller than the elf even when standing. "You better stay here, you danged Elf. I'll get the necessities."

"A blight on the stiff necks of dwarves," Legolas muttered.

"A blight on the stiff necks of Elves!" Gimli called back. "I'll knock three times in a row, so you know it's me."

The Mirkwood Prince watched as Gimli left the room, then he carefully undid the bandaging, trembling. He felt that at any moment, he could collapse and give in to death, but something kept him upright. Something kept him going…

He could almost see the concern in Aragorn's face when he was to see the wound upon Legolas's hip. He could easily picture the Ranger's wide eyes, concern in his face, reaching out to touch the wound. He could imagine Aragorn gently asking why he had not tended to the wound, why he had allowed it to get to this state…

It was either life or death, and Legolas wanted only life if Aragorn were truly alive…Not even his father could stop him from accepting death. He had no one else to live for. Not a lover, not a sibling, not an uncle, not a mother…

The Mirkwood Prince's eyes felt heavy. He wanted to close them, rest them for just a bit, and as he slowly allowed them to do so, there was a knock at his door. Three, actually. He took that as Gimli's knock and struggled, standing and opening the door. The dwarf stepped inside, carrying medical supplies and Legolas's now dried clothing.

Gimli's eyes widened upon seeing the wound, gushing blood with Legolas's arm clasped over it. "Sit down, you elf! Before you collapse!" he demanded. Legolas did as asked without hesitation, sitting painfully upon the bed in a crisscross pattern, though it did cause more pain to flare in his side, that was his usual sitting position. Unless he were sitting at a table.

"What've you done to yourself, lad?" Gimli asked, shaking his head in disdain. He set the clothing to the side and took out the medical kit, popping it open. "Move your arm so I can see."

Again, Legolas did as asked without hesitation. He had little strength to be able to fight Gimli back, even if he wanted to. He was sure all the dwarf would have to do would be sit on him and he'd be unable to move, despite how hard he would thrash.

The Dwarf's eyes examined the wound carefully, taking a cloth and pressing it against it. Legolas hissed in pain, wanting to lash out at the dwarf almost instinctively from the agony he felt shoot through him, but he had to remind himself that Gimli was just trying to help.

"You weren't lying when you said it was deep," Gimli remarked. The wound was even more inflamed than it had been before thanks to Legolas fighting Gimli back. He shook his head. Why were elves always so unwilling to seek out aid?

"I was hoping it would kill me," Legolas admitted, his voice quiet. His eyes began to fall shut, but a slight tap to his face from the dwarf snapped him back into reality. Gimli rummaged through the medical supplies. Unfortunately, there was a needle, but no thread.

"Oh for Mahal's sake," Gimli muttered. He didn't wish to go back down to ask for a thread, seeing as he took the medical kit without asking for permission first, but it was either sew it, or bandage it quickly and ride out to find Aragorn.

"Just bandage it…" Legolas begged.

"You can die, Elf!" Gimli snapped, genuinely concerned.

"Please," Legolas pleaded.

Gimli hesitated, but the more they sat here and wasted time, the more time was lost in searching for Aragorn. He sighed, but took the Elf's request.

After cleaning the blood to the best of his ability, he gathered a numbing salve, spreading it across the wound. Legolas screamed at the sudden pain he felt, as if fire were being held to his side and his skin were bubbling under the flames. He was surprised to find he even kept consciousness, but Gimli started to carefully wrap the wound, bringing the two sides together with the bandaging, tying it off after wrapping the bandaging around Legolas's shoulder and torso. He stood back to make sure he did a fair enough job then nodded to himself.

"Rest while you still can, you'll be needing all the strength you can get," Gimli stated. Legolas finally allowed his eyelids to fall close, slipping into unconsciousness. It was so comforting, the darkness he felt himself enter. He could just stray into it and never come back…

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And there's the end of this chapter. I promise you there is plenty more to come, my lovelies. Hehe! Again, thank my amazing collaborator!

 _-WingedIceWolf_


	4. Chapter 4 -Found-

Oh man, the many many many pages this one shot had...Twenty four to be exact. Here's another chapter! I hope you all enjoy! Again, I apologize if the Elvish is a little off. Thanks to my collaborator!  
 _-WingedIceWolf_

 _ **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS**_

* * *

It didn't seem long, but he was woken with a tap to his face. He wearily opened his eyes to find Gimli towering over him. What were hours had felt like minutes, but Legolas could tell that it was dark out by the shadows that flickered from the small crack beneath the doorway. He sat up slowly, groaning in pain.

"It's time, lad," Gimli stated quietly, helping Legolas to his feet. He was a little unsteady, but managed to regain his footing and slip on some clothing, not his original clothing unfortunately, seeing as that still needed to be sewn, but his cloak was still salvageable.

The dwarf fastened the cloak around his companion's shoulders, his blades, bow, and quiver included. He tried to even the weight so that Legolas's wound wasn't strained more than it already was. The Dwarf would aid him properly if he could, but he doubted Legolas would allow it. The only one who could most likely talk sense into the Elf was Aragorn himself.

"You'll have to scale the wall, Elf," Gimli stated. "Do you think you can accomplish that? There are guards posted nearby at nearly every gate entrance. You will have to hurry. I'll meet you there. Somehow…" The dwarf gave him a slight smirk.

Legolas nodded and stepped out of the room, walking out of the hall into the open. All of Helm's Deep was quiet. Save the crackling of the torches and the howl of the wind accompanied by chirping crickets. He looked around, familiarizing himself with his surroundings, then began scaling a wall. He leapt over the side and carefully took hold of the rough stone.

The rest had given him little strength, but whatever strength he had was needed for this task.

Left, right, left, right. He moved down the slope, clutching to the stone wearily, climbing down. When he reached the bottom, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Thankfully he had not lost his footing…Now he was at the first floor, but the gate would be closed at this time. The only form of leaving would be scaling another wall.

He quickly glanced around for any guards, thankfully he found none in his current position, but he did catch the sound of footsteps.

He quickly scrambled up the large wall, right left, right left, until he was at the top. He was nearly out of breath and his side began to flare with pain, but he took little time in climbing down.

Steps approached the edge he was climbing down. He froze, holding his breath, trying to make himself as flat as possible as he hid in the shadows. He could hear a guard look over the edge, muttering under his breath, but thankfully he found nothing but darkness as Legolas held perfectly still to the wall.

The guard continued his watch and Legolas continued climbing down the wall until he met the rocky ground beneath his feet. He let out another sigh and leaned against the wall, catching his breath as he gazed at the stars above. They twinkled and shone upon him, a comfort against the bitter cold breeze from the mountainsides.

He allowed his eyes to fall closed, but a hand was placed to his shoulder, snapping him awake. The form of Gimli startled him, but Gimli placed a finger to his lips, guiding Legolas's stallion to him, Arod. In Gimli's other hand was an unlit lantern.

The horse nuzzled him in acknowledgement. The Elf Prince reached up and scratched the horse behind the ears, feeling the warm hair beneath his fingertips. The horse let out a concerned whinny, placing his nose to Legolas's shoulder.

"I'm alright," Legolas said, gently petting the horse's blonde mane. Arod stomped his hoof in protest, but Legolas stepped to his side to mount him. "How did you get him here without being seen, Gimli…?"

"Never question a dwarf," Gimli stated proudly. Arod lowered himself to make mounting easier, allowing his rider to mount without much of a struggle. Riding a horse would cause more strain to his wound, but again, all that mattered to him was Aragorn. Gimli managed to mount himself with Legolas's aid, despite Gimli's orders to not be aided in fear of Legolas harming himself further.

"Arod, make haste!" Legolas ordered, tapping his horse's sides with his boots. Arod obeyed his rider and carefully trotted away from Helm's Deep before breaking into a full gallop. Legolas leaned forward to prevent himself from falling, feeling the frigid wind rush past him, everything a blur as they galloped to the Warg attack.

It was too dark for Gimli to really see anything, but Legolas could see the dark as if it were dim light, making sure to keep watch if any Wargs were to spring out of the blue. Unfortunately, with his blood loss, his senses were somewhat dulled. But that would not prevent him from searching for Aragorn.

Bodies still lied in a mass, orcs and Wargs piled up, dead, the stench of it heavy in the air. Legolas almost gagged, shutting his eyes and shuddering. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered him. But for whatever reason, it did this time.

The horse came to a stop near the cliff face, trotting along the edge. Legolas searched the waters, finding nothing, as he had expected. Perhaps Aragorn had washed up further along the canal? The Elf Prince felt himself pulled back by Gimli.

"Steady, lad," the Dwarf ordered, pulling him back onto Arod. "Don't lean over the cliff."

He leaned over the cliff? He didn't even feel himself leaning. Was he letting go more and more…?

Legolas dug his heels into Arod yet again; the horse burst into a gallop, galloping across the stony-grassed ground, hooves thundering.

Finally, Legolas could see the shallow parts of the canal. Water spilled between rocks, trickling and spurting over them. He pulled Arod to a stop, then turned to Gimli. The dwarf lit the lantern with a piece of flint, then dismounted with Legolas's aid, guiding him carefully to the cliff face.

"I'll find a narrower place to meet you at, Elf," Gimli said. "I don't fancy myself in climbing like you elves do. Be careful and keep your guard."

Legolas nodded yet again and began climbing down the ravine as Gimli galloped away. He hoped and prayed to the Valar that his companion would be alive. He carefully climbed down the rock, but as he leaned over to peer at the waters below him, he found himself again leaning forward. As he scrambled to regain hold of something, his hand closed around air and he slipped, falling just a foot or so before managing to regain his footing.

The action caused a wave of agony to slam into him. He let out a scream of pain, fingers clutching tightly to the rock, gritting his teeth as he waited for it to subside. But it did not. He clutched to the rock for minutes, waiting, but he came to the realization that the more he waited, the more time he wasted.

He forced himself through the pain, putting one foot behind the other until he felt cold, icy water soak his boots. Legolas sighed in relief, but half that sigh was a hiss through his teeth. The water was still rapid, but was too low to really do much of any damage to him. He began to search for Aragorn, stumbling and having to lean against the ravine to catch his breath. If it were to start raining, he was sure he'd be doomed.

"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted. His shout echoed off the walls of the ravine.

The howl of the wind and rushing water was all he could hear.

He tried again, louder. "Aragorn!"

The echo rang, but again, silence. He wouldn't give up now, however. He _would_ find Aragorn at all costs.

If…He were still alive.

He stepped around slick rocks, his feet soaking wet, but again, he was determined to find his companion. He heard hooves crunching against rock, expecting Arod and Gimli, but instead found Hasufel galloping toward him.

"H-hasufel…?" Legolas managed to say. The chocolate-haired horse reared up and neighed, stomping his hooves, jerking his head behind him. The Elf Prince could sense he wanted Legolas to follow and Legolas did as the horse wanted of him. His hopes rose. If Hasufel was still alive and was trying to lead him, he would find Aragorn!

Wouldn't he?

Legolas followed the horse to a large gap in the canal. Hasufel skid to a halt and neighed yet again. The Elf prince could barely make out a figure lying within the rocks. His eyes widened and he immediately scrambled to the figure, though it was difficult for him to see in such darkness.

"Aragorn?!" Legolas shouted, shaking the cold, nearly lifeless figure.

He was met with a soft groan, one Legolas could recognize as Aragorn's. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled Aragorn close to him, tears spilling down his cheeks, but the Ranger did not wake, hanging limply in

Legolas's hold. "Goheno nin, Estel!"

Legolas felt his heart sink when the Ranger did not respond. He turned to Hasufel, slinging Aragorn over his shoulder. He hoped the Ranger hadn't passed right there and then…Legolas mounted Aragorn a top Hasufel, then climbed on himself, hugging Aragorn close to him as well as Hasufel reigns.

The horse broke into a gallop yet again, galloping to a small natural ramp leading up the surface. Hasulfel began to buck and neigh as if in warning, trying to hurry up the ramp. They reached the surface and Legolas saw a faint lantern in the distance. He couldn't even let out a breath before a force slammed into him, knocking him free from Hasufel.

The horse neighed and tried to attack what had thrown Legolas off, but it was again forced to be driven back with a harsh kick to his barrel like chest.

Legolas shouted in surprise, trying to draw his weapon, but he was far too weak to reach down and writhe his Elven Dagger from its place at his hip. Some creature kept him pinned, snarling, saliva dripping onto the Prince's face. The smell of its breath was enough to make him gag, but any thought he had was cut short as it snapped at him.

He had barely just a moment to block the attack with his arm, which was met with powerful jaws and sharp teeth. The Mirkwood Prince screamed in pain and tried to pry his other arm free from the creature's hold, but it kept him pinned like a mouse in the hold of a cat.

And he was exactly that. A mouse. The large creature was toying with him, wanting to make him scream and bleed. Well, so far it was succeeding. Legolas could hardly keep consciousness with the pain overwhelming him, the creature viciously tearing his arm open.

The Elf Prince allowed himself to scream as the creature raked its claws across his chest, forming deep marks as his back arched in pain, tossing him in the air and clamping its jaws upon his thigh like a rag doll, the bones shattering upon the impact. He was hardly able to move at all due to his weakness. The creature threw him against the ground with a harsh thud, dust flying into the air, snarling in an almost mocking manner.

Was this how he would die? To this creature he could hardly recognize? He found himself fading in and out of consciousness as he struggled to rise, the darkness becoming even more dark. The creature charged, pinning him down, opening its jaws.

The creature's breath crawled down Legolas's shoulders, to his throat. Legolas closed his eyes, only able to hear the thundering of his own heart and braced himself for death as the creature snarled, snapping at his throat.

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Cliffies! Yay!

-WingedIceWolf

 ** _Traslations:_**

 _Goheno nin, Estel!_ \- **Forgive me, Estel!**


	5. Chapter 5 -Holding On To Hope-

Angst angst angsty angst with blood, blood, and more blood!

Thank you for reading reviewing and following! Please enjoy my lovelies! I apologize if the Elvish is a bit off.

-WingedIceWolf

 _ **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!**_

* * *

Aragorn awoke suddenly at the sound of screams. He groaned and looked up to find a large Warg pinning down someone, its large body visible even in the moonlight. His eyes widened and he scrambled to find his blade, all the while trying to think as to why the screams sounded vaguely familiar. His fingers finally curled around the hilt of his blade.

Why was he here? His head pulsed and ached too badly for him to recall that situation. The more he came to, the more he came to realize he was on horseback.

 _Hasufel?_

The horse neighed and bucked, trying to get closer to whoever was pinned by the Warg. Aragorn's head jerked toward a glow that was nearing them, followed by the thundering of hooves. A voice shouted, echoing.

"Legolas!"

 _Legolas…? Who-_

Aragorn stopped. It all came flooding back to him. Now he could recall the Warg battle, how he had been dragged off the cliff by one of the foul creatures of Saruman and sent plummeting into the raging waters below.

Legolas! Legolas was his elven Companion, his best friend, his brother! This Warg had the Prince of Mirkwood pinned and was about to bring about his demise. Aragorn would not allow that! Not in a million years! He already lost Gandalf once and lost Boromir; losing yet another was unacceptable!

He had little time...

Aragorn leapt from Hasufel, not even giving the action a second thought, hitting the ground and rolling to absorb the impact. Horrible pain shot through him, but he raised his blade and brought it down upon the Warg, piercing its muscular body before it could deliver the final blow.

The Warg yelped in pain, releasing Legolas and turning to take revenge upon its foe. It leaped at him with a menacing snarl, but Aragorn evaded the leap quickly, dashing to the side, taking his blade and performing a figure eight over his head as he switched the blade to his other hand, bringing it down in one swift move upon the creature's nose.

The Warg again yowled in pain, aggravated and bloodlust. It turned its gaze to look at Aragorn as it paced, its eyes alight with rage and want to kill, shining in the moonlight.

Aragorn knew he would have to be careful, even if the creature was weakened. He could attempt to throw it off the cliff, but then again, it would only find a way back up. He would have to end it right here and now.

The Warg charged at him, and again he evaded, but the creature swerved in the direction Aragorn had avoided it, catching him off guard for just a second. He brought his blade down, but the Warg snapped at it, clenching it between its teeth. It jerked the blade harshly, forcing the Ranger to release, lest he wished to lose an arm.

The Warg threw the blade with a toss of its head, it landing somewhere nearby Legolas with a soft thump. Aragorn's eyes widened in fear, but again fell upon Legolas. If he could distract the Warg for just a bit longer, he could save his companion.

Aragorn did something he thought he would probably regret later. He charged at the Warg head on, his already bloodied fists raised, delivering a hard blow to the Warg's nose. It yelped loudly in pain, lashing out at Aragorn with lightning fast speed.

The Ranger barely managed to step back in time, the claws grazing his arm and his chest, but the wounds were nothing too deep. Regardless, it hurt. He hissed through his teeth, dazed.

The more he stood and fought, the more he felt the world turn ever darker and shapes become nothing more than fuzz. As he battled against the Warg, he forced himself to stand through both pain and weariness that was hardly bearable.

The Warg dropped to the ground, placing both paws over its noze, yelping and whimpering. Between yelps and whimpers were snarls accompanied by heavy, raspy breathing from the hot blood bubbling in the creature's nostrils.

Hasufel was next to Legolas, neighing and nudging the injured prince. Legolas remained unconscious, unable to bear any more pain. The steed stomped his hooves, looking back to Gimli who galloped over, dismounted, and shouted as he ran toward the Warg at full speed.

The horses galloped up to the Warg, kicking its sides harshly and knocking its head with their front and back hooves. Bones crunched under the pressure, snapping, shattering, and cracking. This moment of weakness was all they needed to defeat this thing.

The Warg stood and turned left and right, snapping and snarling, often managing to get a leg of a steed, but it was well outnumbered. And it knew it was outnumbered; it laid low and growled, blood dripping from many wounds upon its body. It reluctantly paused to gag and spit up its own blood, but Gimli took that moment to embed his ax into the creature's eye, slashing its throat with a powerful cry of triumph mixed with rage. It screamed loudly before dropping dead, writhing and seizing.

The dwarf turned to Aragorn, hugging him tightly. "Bless you, laddie! You're alive!" Gimli chimed. Aragorn breathed heavily, but pushed Gimli aside, running to Legolas.

The Elf Prince lied nearly still, breath labored and barely existent. He subconsciously called out quietly as Aragorn approached, his voice nearly silent. "A-Aragorn…". The Ranger knelt, took his hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly before intertwining their fingers.

 _He's so cold…_

"I'm here, mellon nîn," Aragorn spoke softly, trying to keep his voice unwavering. His eyes wet with fresh tears searched for any open wounds, finding his arm bleeding freely, his hip torn from hip to his other hip, gushing blood along with the four deep gashes in his chest. His leg was swollen and bruised, too spewing crimson. Aragorn forced himself to choke back a sob as he stared at his pale faced, scarlet soaked companion who clutched to the dying embers of life.

He wanted to act like none of this happened, wanted to believe he was just in a dream and he would wake up from it all. But that would never be the case. This was reality and just like when Gandalf had fallen victim to the Balrog and when Boromir had been felled by orcs, he had to accept that this was not something he could brush aside in his mind or simply make up a happy ending for like when he had as a child.

No...This was all real.

Seeing Legolas in such a state as this made Aragorn's heart shatter. He curled in on himself, tears spilling down his cheeks, glistening in the moonlight with his silent sobs. His shoulder shook with his uneven breaths caused by his despair.

How was he supposed to save Legolas now…? In fact, his leg could be pooling with blood from the inside, which would then kill him and destroy any connection his body had with the leg...

Aragorn trembled faintly, holding Legolas's hand close to his face, not caring if he were to get carmine smeared all along his face. It would take a miracle to save his Companion…

Miracle or none, all Aragorn had to go off of for now was hope. That's what his Elven name had meant. Estel.

 _How ironic?_

Maybe he would have laughed were this not such a dire situation. Maybe Legolas would have teased him about it as he usually did. Maybe everything would be alright and they would all be back on the road, reuniting with Merry and Pippin. but now was not how it would have been.

It was now or never, he had to make a choice. Legolas would either die or he would live and now was the decision. Legolas's life rested in Aragorn's hands. All it would take would be one foul mistake and the Prince of Mirkwood would lose his life…

"Gimli, get Arod. You will ride back with Legolas and don't look back," Aragorn demanded. "I will keep your backs and meet you at Helm's Deep."

Gimli stared at Aragorn in bewilderment. "We came here to get you Lad, and you think that we're going to leave you here after everything this Elf has gone through to find you? Do you have any idea what he has risked, Aragorn? What he's allowed himself to come to?" Gimli nearly shouted, clenching his jaw tightly, lips set in a thin line.

Aragorn grimaced, his dark, blood and dirt matted hair shadowing his face. "I know...But please...Legolas is going to die if we don't get him help immediately! Please Gimli, son of Gloin. I beg of you,"' Aragorn begged, his voice cracking.

Gimli's gaze fell back to Legolas, he frowned but reluctantly nodded, giving in. The more they argued, the less time there was for the Mirkwood Prince and Aragorn would not forgive himself if Legolas passed on. The burden would forever rest upon the Heir of Isildur's shoulders.

Aragorn stood, helping Legolas onto Arod. The horse neighed worryingly for its master, turning his head back to look at him. Even in Aragorn's arms, the Prince was hardly responsive; so frail and cold, Arod's white coat being quickly stained with Legolas's blood.

"Stay yassen amin, Legolas," Aragorn said quietly into the Elf's ear, giving his hand yet another squeeze. Aragorn so badly wanted to break down and sob at that moment, this was tearing him apart, digging into him like a thousand red-hot knives. But he had to be strong...For Legolas.

Aragorn then aided in getting Gimli mounted onto Arod, despite the dwarf's protests that he could do so himself. "Do not let him fall, Gimli," Aragorn stated gently. The dwarf opened his mouth to protest, but a cold glare mixed with a concerned plea stopped him from progressing any further.

 _Stubborn, prideful dwarves…_ Aragorn thought to himself bitterly. He then spoke into the ear of the steed, knowing Arod understood Elvish commands due to his rider. "Auta, Arod! Ride yassen asca!"

The horse neighed, rearing and stomping its hooves before galloping into the distance. Even in the darkness, he could see the thundering hooves of the steed hitting the ground in a rhythmic gallop. Aragorn's gaze rose to stare at the many stars glittering above him, tears falling from his eyes, glistening in the pale moonlight.

In the past, Aragorn had treated both the fallen and injured with Athelas. But would it be any different this time or would he have need to seek out the aid of the elves? Would any aid come in Helm's Deep? Would Legolas be claimed by death many miles from home? There were so many questions unanswered, questions he wished he knew the answers to right here and now. He did not want to wait to find out.

Hasufel nudged Aragorn gently. He turned and embraced the horse, sobbing into his mane. "Please let him live. Manwë, Eru Ilúvatar, Varda, I beg of you…" He said quietly to the heavens above.

As if in response to his plea, a light floated down in front of him, glowing brightly, like a star itself had been gifted to him. His eyes widened, reaching out to the orb, but it only floated away from his grasp, giving off a light as bright as day. Hasufel reached for the orb as well, trying to nip at it with his teeth, but again, it floated from him.

"I...I think it's here to guide us…" Aragorn said aloud. Hasufel lowered so Aragorn could again mount, but Aragorn turned to retrieve his blade before doing so. The light sped away from them, glowing in the far distance. He dug his heels into Husfel, the horse breaking into a full gallop.

Every time they got closer to the orb, it floated farther and farther away. Hasufel never seemed to tire, and neither did Aragorn's determination to keep the light in view. Alas, the keep of Helm's Deep could be seen in the distance. Aragorn's hopes rose, galloping up to the bridge. The light faded from view, as if it were never there to begin with.

Two guards stood at the entrance, spears pointed at the approaching figure, bodies tense, but upon seeing Aragorn, they both nearly dropped their spears, mouths agape.

"Lord Aragorn!" One of the guards cried. "You're alive!"

"I need entrance, now!" Aragorn demanded. The second guard bowed his head.

"Lord Legolas and Gimli had returned just recently…" the guard spoke, stepping aside. "I pray we do not lose him or you this night, Lord Aragorn. My best of wishes go to you and the Prince…"

* * *

Yaaay! Thank you all, I hope you enjoyed!

 _-WingedIceWolf_

 _Translations:  
 **Stay yassen amin, Legolas** \- Stay with me, Legolas  
 **Auta, Arod! Ride yassen asca!**_ \- Go, Arod! Ride with haste! _  
_


	6. Attention!

_**I apologize for not being able to update this story. I sprained my thumb around Christmas and am still recovering from it. By doctor's orders, I'm to not do strenuous activities with it. So in the meantime, I need to focus on my schooling and take it easy. Thank you all in advance!**_

 ** _-WingedIceWolf_**


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